Part XII Dreams of war, dreams of liars, dreams of dragon's fire and of things
that will bite.
It was supposed to be a joke. That was the worst part. Catch a couple of
beers with the guys and have a laugh, scare the girls a little and reap
the benefits later, when you could get an arm round your date and hold
her close. Offer a little comfort and security, play the macho hero. Who
it was that got the idea he would never know. Later on he would
recognise it as one of the craziest things he had ever done. But at the
time it made sense. Perhaps it was a trick from the start, something put
into their heads by the evil buried in the old graveyard.
Carl was the one who brought the spade, and who laughingly began to
strip the turf off the top of the ancient grave. They had all known the
legend from the earliest stories whispered in childhood.
That's where the sorcerer is buried! Three hundred years ago he
committed his vile crimes, and held the settlement of Prospect in thrall
to his evil. Until the city fathers of the time had banded together and
put an end to the terror, at the cost of over twenty lives it was
said.
And it was Carl's idea too, to dig the old bastard up and take a few
souvenirs. Maybe even hold a seance tomorrow with the skull placed
strategically on a nearby gravestone. Mandy would be so terrified that
he was sure he could talk his way into spending the night with her. Just
in case the sorcerer came looking for his missing body parts, someone
would have to protect her.....
The first problem came when they broke through the outer wood of the
coffin, after a frustratingly long time digging in the tough clay. The
corpse wasn't exactly skeletized. Maybe liquescent would be a better
description. Still substantially fleshed after three hundred years, and
boy was this corpse ugly And the smell.......
"Get the fucking head, Will, and let's get outta here." Carl aimed the
spade at the rotting neck, intending to decapitate the corpse by cutting
through the tendons that still attached it to the body. It was then that
things started to get weird. A phosphorescent glow sprang up around the
corpse, and one baleful eye swivelled in its socket, fixing its gaze on
Carl. The other eye had long since fallen out of its resting place and
was a jelly like mass on the half worm eaten cheek, its socket swimming
with yellow ooze. Then impossibly strong fingers moved, even as Carl
stood frozen next to the body. The corpse caught hold of the luckless
grave robber and with incredible strength, ripped Carl's throat open.
The other two young men had long since fled. So they didn't see the
sorcerer's skin and muscle regenerating where his body was splashed with
blood. Nor did they see the eager way it smeared more of the hot redness
across face and hands.
The face that finally lifted to the night sky and uttered a howl of
triumph was substantially human, if a little pale. The sorcerer would
need more blood before he would be able to pass for human. But this
was a start. And the sounds of frantic retreat across the graveyard told
him where more could be found.
And then Prospect would pay!
Kulain leaned back languorously on the bed. It had taken a little
planning on his part, and the merest hint of pheromones, silently
trickling from the pores of his human seeming skin. A trail of them in
fact, leading here, to this place, his inner sanctuary, the heart of his
tower. He stretched out on the lush silken covers overlaying his bed and
waited patiently for his plan to be fulfilled. He had learned the value
of such tactics in his recent dealings with Alex. A sweet set-up. The
apparently distracted way he had moved past Alex and Fox, heading
towards his hideaway, trailing his scent in the air behind him,
deliberately teasing it past their senses. Both were unaware of their
own responses. First Alex's nostrils had dilated a fraction, then his
Fox. Alex had sighed softly, his hand tracing across his mouth in an
unconsciously sensual gesture as he suckled lightly on the tip of his
index finger. Mulder had stretched his body, catlike, and his nipples
had begun to press in erect points through the thin shirt he wore.
Mulder smoothed his hand across his chest, fingering one and had sighed.
Kulain had made sure to include Sean this time, not that it took as
great a stimulus to wake the sexuality of his newest conquest. Just a
trace of pheromones had been enough to make blue eyes glaze over, and
pupils dilate widely. Sean had gently bitten at his lips, reddening them
in an ancient signal of sexual readiness.
Kulain was planning an evening of fun. Not entirely ethical, to be sure,
but he was feeling particularly in need of satisfaction tonight, and
three willing partners would be very welcome. And it would not be at all
difficult for him to satisfy them. He rarely felt the call of the blood
these days. His aggressive impulses were all but subsumed by his
constant supply of sexual partners. And yet tonight, he wanted, no,
needed all of them to quench the heat within him. The thought alone
made him hard and ready for them.
Sean was predictably the first. Alex and Fox had been ignoring him
lately, ever since he had taken advantage of Alex's memory problems to
satisfy his own needs. Alex predictably reacted in accordance with Fox's
wishes and stayed away from the younger man. Sean was lonelier than he
liked to admit, though no longer the totally defenceless victim of his
own mind. Kulain watched as the young bodyguard slipped through the half
open door, pulling his clothes off as he came, breathing hard, unaware
that the acceleration of his metabolism was being caused deliberately by
his lover. And that his breath carried more arousing chemicals into his
brain with every gasp. Wordlessly, Sean sank onto the bed next to Kulain
and bowed his dark head to satisfy the immediate problem that reared in
Kulain's lap. The demon watched with amusement, as the lush lips parted
and the rosy mouth began to minister to him. Exquisite.
He sensed movement at the door, and watched in satisfaction as Alex
approached, face flushed with excitement. His first action was to
scramble on his hands and knees across the top of the large bed and
begin to irresistibly lick the demon's skin. He was particularly
attentive to Kulain's own nipples, unaware that he was craving the taste
of those devastatingly effective pheromones. Production of those
chemicals, after all, was centred on Kulain's erogenous zones. Alex too,
had shed his clothing as the chemical action on his brain had made him
seem far too hot for comfort.
The action of two mouths across his body was exceptionally pleasant.
His Fox was the last to respond to his call. He stood for a long while
at the doorway, his eyes puzzled, as if he couldn't quite comprehend why
he was doing this. Then the call of his blood became overwhelming, and
he strode forward, flinging himself down next to Kulain and
enthusiastically beginning to kiss his lover's mouth.
Kulain had always desired the three of them together. Now they were
ready, and if not totally comfortable with each other, at least they
were all familiar with each other's bodies and would suffer no trauma
from his manipulation of their minds and bodies.
He concentrated on their kisses for a while, then encouraged Sean to
mount him. And Alex to suck on Sean. Mulder whimpered in frustration,
rubbing his hardness against Kulain, until Alex fastened green eyes on
him, though he never left off from his enthusiastic suckling.
Tonight was going to be exceptional!
Mulder woke with a groan. He tried unsuccessfully to remember where he
was, and what he had been doing last night. From the pleasant ache in
his balls and ass, he had obviously spent the night in wild, utterly
satisfying passion. He could feel a warmth beneath his head, fingers
laced with his, and a body half draped across his back as he lay face
down on the bed. He cracked one eyelid open cautiously, and found that
the hand entwined with his was Alex's, as was the dark haired head close
to his. The powerfully muscled torso that warmed his cheek had to be
Kulain. Then who.....? He pushed carefully at the form, and heard it
mumble something sleepily with an English accent.
What the hell had they got up to last night. He groaned. He was
beginning to remember falling asleep like this after being fucked all
but senseless by......... Sean! And the look of adoration he remembered
in the blue eyes left no doubt as to what Sean felt. Mulder wondered how
he had so misread the signs. Sean was hopelessly in love with him!
Perhaps even with all of them? He closed his eyes again, silently
wishing for the dream to go away. Unfortunately it was reality. A second
vague recollection of being sucked by Sean as Alex took the younger man
very enthusiastically. And a number of other combinations.....
And always Kulain had been at the heart of it, controlling, taking,
caressing, licking, biting........
Reality wasn't going to go away. With a sigh, he pushed the still
sleeping bodyguard away and sat up gingerly. The Englishman sighed, and
shifted so that he was curled into the side of Kulain again, close to
the demon's warmth. Mulder was stiff and aching a little.
Kulain was awake. And watching him with a look of definite amusement.
Momentarily, Mulder blushed. His gaze dropped, uncertain, then he
finally found the courage to meet those too-penetrating green eyes. He
couldn't exactly pretend to hate Sean any more. Not after last night. In
fact the whole experience had been so good. The things he
remembered...... His cock was making its appreciation felt, and slowly
rose to attention. Kulain's smile deepened, and he loosened one arm from
where it was curled around Alex, and reached down to grasp his own
burgeoning erection. They had yet to exchange a word, but Fox Mulder
knew exactly what his lover wanted.
Minutes later, impaled and moving his body slowly as he rode up and down
on his demon lover's swollen member, making small noises of pleasure,
Mulder didn't give a damn about his previous hesitations. This was too
good, too addictive, in the end, too satisfying. His movements became
frantic and he sobbed with satisfaction as the heat exploded out of him,
carrying him away on waves of ecstasy, even as Kulain matched him and
spurted deep inside him. How the hell did the demon always manage to
keep pace with him? To match his needs so precisely?
Mulder sank back, shaking in aftermath, the fire inside him slowly
stilling, and closed his eyes. Kulain's cock was still inside him, not
yet soft, oddly comforting. He finally opened his eyes as he sensed
movement, and gasped. Sean and Alex were awake, and busily licking what
remained of his seed from Kulain's belly. And the demon was watching
them all in satisfaction. The sight of the two dark heads busily working
sent a renewed jolt through Mulder's body, and he found himself
hypnotically watching the active movements of their tongues. He knew
then that this was going to be one of those days when he would find it
impossible to get out of bed........
Alex was wearing only a smile and a small towel when he came out of the
bathroom a few hours later. Mulder sighed tiredly, and reluctantly
averted his eyes from the lithe form of his beautiful mate. He doubted
whether he could raise one finger at the moment, let alone give that
incredible body the attention it deserved. Demon blood or not. Alex
predictably, was almost purring with satisfaction, and seemed not at all
fatigued by four solid hours of sex, and that after a hectic night.
Sean, on the other hand, was so exhausted that he hadn't moved an inch
from his sprawling sleep on Kulain's bed. And Kulain had disappeared,
which was probably just as well.
The insistent sounds of his cell phone broke into his thoughts. With a
heavy sigh, he answered the call. And blinked in surprise as he heard
the anxious voice at the other end of the phone.
"So what does Kowalski want?" Alex asked, as he and Mulder passed
through the big glass doors that led into the Hoover building. Though he
didn't remember much about his time at the F.B.I., Alex had heard a lot
of his lover's stories about the X files, and he was burning with
curiosity.
"He said he had an X file that he wanted me to look at." Mulder couldn't
quite pretend disinterest. He had been too long out of the loop, and the
prospect of a case to interest him was all but irresistible. Kowalski
knew him well enough by now to predict that this case would arouse
Mulder's curiosity.
It was the first time that Fox Mulder had been back in the F.B.I.
building in Washington since his very public affair with Kulain had
caused his suspension. He faced the memories of happier times with
stoicism. He had no time to waste on tormenting himself with useless
dreams of the past. And he still had a few friends left in the Bureau.
Like Kowalski, who had been given the unenviable task of taking over the
X files in Mulder's absence.
What he hadn't expected were the openly curious glances of agents and
co-workers in his direction. Living with Kulain, being in his company so
much, Mulder was shielded from the reactions of most ordinary Americans
to his situation. No-one dared provoke Kulain with openly hostile
behaviour. But today, the resentment in many faces surprised him.
Alex too was attracting attention, though not of the same kind. Rumours
were rife in Washington law enforcement circles that Alex Krycek had
been turned into a brain damaged moron by some kind of accident. And
Mulder found himself glad that Alex could show them how wrong they were.
He was unconscious of the beauty and grace that surrounded the two of
them. Before, they had drawn many an admiring gaze. But now it was
obvious to all but the most unimaginative of watchers that neither of
them was completely human. No human had ever possessed that ethereal
poise and self control, or that hint of otherness that neither of them
could conceal any more. A suggestion of predator, of dangerous untamed
beauty. Most of the men in the place felt inadequate in comparison, and
the women felt an envy of Kulain.
Kowalski, of course , just gave a grin in welcome, as he met his two
guests and escorted them down to the same old basement office.
Mulder shook his head in puzzlement as he reviewed the details of this
latest case file. Set in the little city of Prospect, a place founded in
the seventeenth century by Puritans. It had been surprisingly easy to
slip into his old role, lounge back in the familiar chair, with Alex
perched on the chair arm next to him, a familiar pressure against his
side as the younger man read over his shoulder. It made grisly reading,
comparable to the worst excesses of the demons. A group of young men
butchered in a graveyard where they had been drinking. And insufficient
blood at the scene, despite the horrific injuries that had been
inflicted on the corpses. Oddest of all, it seemed that the victims had
interrupted a grave robbing, because an open grave was found in the
vicinity, minus its long dead occupant.
"Why exactly do you need us?" Mulder puzzled. Kowalski was more than
capable of handling either grave robbing or murder without help.
The middle aged cop tossed a new folder onto the pile of crime scene
photos, in response. Alex hissed when he saw the contents, and Mulder
swallowed as bile rose to the back of his throat.
"That came in this morning, just before I called you!" Kowalski said. He
indicated the new picture. This body had been shredded as if it had
travelled through machinery, muscle and bone torn apart by some immense
force. "The victim is none other than the morgue attendant who was in
charge of the first three bodies. And now they're missing too. Why the
hell, if you'll pardon the expression, would any normal person want
three bodies in moderately poor condition? And why take the risk of
committing another murder? It feels all wrong to me. I could use your
expertise Mulder."
Mulder glanced at Alex who shrugged. It was his call then.
"Alright Kowalski. I'm in! The two of us will head down to the city of
Prospect tonight. Call ahead and tell the local police to expect us."
His eyes shone as he left the building, Alex by his side. A fact that
didn't escape his lover.
"You're loving this!" Alex accused, gently teasing. Mulder thought
about denying it, then sighed.
"I guess I miss the old life sometimes. I used to be so good at
this......."
Alex wrapped an arm around his waist and leaned into him. After a moment
he sensed Mulder relax against him. They headed back towards the Tower
on foot, content to walk in each other's arms.
"You know," Alex said softly, "I swear I can remember that office!
Something about you, Kulain and a desk.......?"
He grinned when he realised Mulder was blushing. Then a thought occurred
to him.
"And just how do you plan on persuading Sean to stay in Washington? You
know he'll want to come too."
Mulder sighed. Just when had life become so complicated?
The three of them drove down from Washington that night. It was only a
few hundred miles, about five hours driving time away, and Mulder let
Alex drive, so he could catch up on his sleep. After last night and its
aftermath, he needed it. Alex didn't seem at all tired. Sean lounged
sleepily in the back seat of the hire car, rented to keep their presence
inconspicuous. He had, of course, been unshakeable in his determination
to come with them. Kulain had looked amused at their request, and hadn't
objected to their absence for a few days. Well three demon changed men
ought to be able to tackle most problems on their own!
The arrival at the local law enforcement headquarters was an event
Mulder would remember for a long time. The three of them walking up to
the front desk in the police headquarters and offering their I.D.s to
the young cop behind the desk. Not F.B.I. standard issue, since Mulder
and Alex were no longer officially part of the Bureau, but Tower
identity cards. Marking them officially as demon personnel, and
incidentally, bestowing unlimited credit privileges.
Not something you saw every day in a small place like this, miles from
Washington. The young cop behind the desk gave a strangled sort of
squawk and fled to find his superiors, casting a puzzled look at Alex as
he left. Mulder heard Alex snicker softly, and tried hard, mostly
unsuccessfully he had to admit, to repress his own smile. Then the Chief
of police himself was coming out of his office to greet them, a look of
shock on his face too. A quick invitation to his office followed, and
Mulder found himself seated, facing the nervous looking man.
"Tower personnel! Here! I don't understand...... Look, anything you
want, just ask. We want to cooperate with the demon authorities......."
He blustered in increasing agitation.
"Didn't Special Agent Kowalski call from the F.B.I? I understand you
have a problem at the moment with a serial killer. We've been asked to
help. I've worked with the Profiling division, and my companions both
have experience of working in law enforcement. We think we can help."
Mulder tried to sound reassuring.
The atmosphere changed almost immediately.
"Well why the heck didn't you say so!" The Chief snapped. "Yes of course
the F.B.I. called, I just wasn't expecting...... "
"Demon help!" Alex said slyly. He winked at Mulder. "Let us review the
case files and see what we can do."
The Chief called in one of his men, a hard faced sergeant and instructed
him to look after the visitors. He mopped his forehead, ridding it of
the sweat that had begun to trickle down it, and let out a sigh of
relief when the three visitors departed.
Tower! In Prospect! Unbelievable!
Mulder and his companions had decided to get a good night's sleep and
check out the town early the next morning. Nothing could be gained from
exhausting themselves further tonight, so it seemed the best plan. Until
they came to ask for a room at the local motel that is. Mulder had
without thinking asked the clerk at reception for one room for the three
of them. The widening of her blue eyes and the shocked look she cast
towards him and his companions told him what sort of response he could
expect in a small town like this, for the unconventional lifestyle he
led. He heard Sean and Alex both dissolve into laughter, and with a
sigh, offered to pay for three of the biggest rooms. They could always
hope that one of them had a large enough bed for the three of them. For
it was strangely necessary to sleep in their arms now. Comforting.
Secure. Sustaining. He resigned himself with a sigh, to a time of
sneaking like a teenager, between rooms.
The sorcerer frowned at his undead servants. A motley bunch, poor
quality material. He would have to find some better stock soon, the
already days-dead young men were beginning to smell, and their skins
were turning a mottled grey-blue colour and decay at the extremities of
their bodies had begun already. He regarded his hands with irritation.
Unlike them, he was able to regenerate his body, with the application of
a certain life fluid, and he was almost human again. A very thin, gaunt
human. Apart from some particularly worm eaten parts of his body, like
his hands and belly. An ugly smile crossed his almost skeletal face as
he contemplated how best to find himself another two or three humans who
would gift him with what he needed. Each victim brought power and
strength. Already he had woken his three first sacrifices from the dead
to serve him. Soon, he would have enough strength to raise more zombies,
to make an army. And then he planned to destroy the town!
He smiled even more as he contemplated the camper van coming down the
road, heading towards the trap his servants had set. A blockage in the
road, and an apparently hurt young man. A good thing the night concealed
exactly how dead the servant was! He could sense the life force of at
least four members of a family in the vehicle. Enough to fill the hole
in his belly, as it were. Grinning at his cleverness, he settled down
with the patience of the long dead, and waited.
Mulder and his companions were woken from a sound sleep, curled up
against one another in an untidy tangle, by the hammering on the door of
their room. Alex, half asleep, yelled at the caller to wait, then Mulder
blearily made his way to the doorway and opened it. The police sergeant
who was their liason stood there, plainly surprised at their all being
in the same room at this hour. A man of small town sensibilities.
Schooling his features to neutrality, he gave the three men the latest
news.
"Three more bodies torn apart!" Alex shook his head in disbelief. He had
seen some horrifying sights in New York. But never this degree of
savagery before. Sean looked distinctly ill. Mulder forced himself to
ignore the implications of the evidence around him. The detritus of
human lives, the evidence of the age of some of two of the four victims.
The signs of a desperate struggle, that showed in the wreckage inside
the camper. One victim at least had fought before being dragged outside
the camper. Mulder gestured to Alex to be quiet, and tried to absorb the
atmosphere within the van. The character and probable behaviour of the
victims, the savagery and disregard of the killers. All was important in
profiling this serial killer. Or as he was beginning to suspect, more
than one individual had committed the crime.
An immensely strong murderer, who left little blood at the scene of the
crime. Was it because he had some awful use for the stuff? And why
attack groups of people? Surely that would make the killing harder.
Unless of course his need for the act of murder was overwhelming. And
why the emphasis on graveyards. One empty ancient coffin. Three empty
mortuary slabs. Bodies then were also a vital part of the killer's
needs. It had been known for serial killers in the past to take body
parts as souvenirs. But rarely the whole corpse. Then again, there had
been that extraordinary Nielsen case in London, about ten years ago,
when over a dozen corpses had been kept for weeks before being
dismembered and partially flushed down the sewer. The killer had only
been discovered by the action of a luckless sewer worker......
His musings were cut short by the yell from one of the crime scene
personnel who had been combing the area. Under one body part, as it was
being removed to the morgue, something unusual had been discovered.
Mulder and Alex went to look at it. The partial forefinger of a several
days old corpse, already slippery with the slime of decay. Apparently
brought here by the killer(s). The police chief, who had made an
appearance, shook his head in disbelief. He put a voice to the thoughts
all of them were having.
"Why the hell would he bring body parts to another murder? Is he trying
to leave us a clue? Or is he just plain insane?"
And though they spent most of the day combing the area and talking to
local residents, in the end, no-one could answer him.
It was a human invented pleasure that he didn't often indulge himself
in. But driving along the open road with no other traffic in sight,
Kulain felt free to let the car accelerate to its design limits and
speed at over a hundred miles an hour down the highway. His reflexes
were more than adequate to handle any crisis, but his senses told him
that there were no obstacles to fear.
He had decided to join his sweet triad on their investigation. But there
was, for once, no urgency about this and he had revelled in the freedom
of the road. Fast cars were threatening to become an addiction, despite
the fact that he had only bought a Porsche to please Fox. But now that
he had moved into the rarefied levels of human society where cars were a
status symbol, a unique, sleek Italian model was more to his liking. In
black of course.
He frowned in annoyance as a sudden sound distracted him, the wail of a
police siren. A cruiser was rapidly advancing on his sports car as he
slowed for an approaching town ahead on the highway. How irritating!
Since he had little to fear even from the most hardened cop, he
gradually, teasingly slowed, and finally pulled over. He could see the
lights of the nearby homes in the distance, just appearing as the dusk
came. Presumably the long sought destination of Prospect.
The lone cop climbed out of his car and advanced cautiously towards his
quarry, hand close to his holstered handgun. Kulain watched the figure
approach and smiled slightly. He loved to watch humans' faces when they
realised who he was. A small quirk in his character, which Fox would
have called devilry, no doubt. The officer who converged on his car was
young and slim, and Kulain smiled appreciatively. Then the cop spoke.
"Keep your hands where I can see them! No tricks!" The cop drew
alongside. "Let me see your driving documents..... move slowly!"
Kulain grinned slyly and handed the required papers to the cop, not
entirely accidentally letting his talons show a little. Then he lifted
his slit pupilled eyes to check out the cop's expression.
He was the one that gasped in shock!
Officer Ricky Caruso had been almost ready to call it a day. He was hot
and tired, and longed for a cold beer and a shower. It had been a long
day, and every cop in town was on edge since the killings had started.
Then he had spotted this joker in the black sports car, gunning his way
across the landscape. He was more than a little annoyed by the time he
had caught up with the car, which seemed to take an insolently long time
to stop. This guy was going to get a speeding ticket no matter what!
He cautiously approached the driver, careful to leave no opening for the
guy to pull out a gun. The man was powerfully built, and looked
dangerous, although Ricky couldn't have said why this was. The perp
seemed co-operative, and handed him the required documents. He caught
sight of the name on the papers he held and his breath hissed in shock.
This was a face he knew. In fact you would have to be dead not to know
it. It glared out at you from news stands and t.v. screens everywhere.
Kulain.
The familiar face turned to look at him, impossible, inhuman eyes and an
amused smile curving onto that generous mouth. Then a look of
astonishment to match his own.
Kulain found himself staring into a face to match the one he had taken
as his lover for over two years. Perhaps half a dozen years younger than
his Alex, but just as sweet and kissable. A firm body and a glow of
green eyes in the half light of the dusk. Impossible, but true. Alex had
a double, a young man who by coincidence closely resembled Kulain's
lover.
Kulain rose sinuously out of the car, and leaned against the hood,
casual and apparently relaxed, as the young cop fled back to his patrol
car, composure forgotten, and somewhat frantically radioed his base for
instructions. Kulain kept his movements carefully casual. It wouldn't do
to alarm this unexpectedly delightful human.
The young cop began to stammer his apologies, momentarily confounded by
the position he found himself in. As if every human on the planet didn't
know that Kulain of Washington could take out half a dozen opponents in
the blink of an eye. The demon felt want uncoil within his belly as he
watched the human. One hand crept unobserved towards the tyre behind
him, and he quashed a momentary regret about how much this would cost
him in dollars. Then a sharp talon pierced the tyre carefully, not
allowing the hiss of escaping air to become audible.........
Green eyes watched Kulain cautiously. Officer Ricky Caruso flushed under
the demon's scrutiny, and scowled at his own obvious fear. The human's
back straightened, and he assumed a nonchalant pose, though he couldn't
quite conceal a shaking hand as he gestured to Kulain's beautiful sports
car.
"You can go....... I'm sorry...... Oh!"
Kulain followed the cop's gaze, then glared at Caruso. "The damn tyre is
flat now! How the hell am I going to get a replacement around here. The
tyres cost a thousand dollars apiece. I'll have to ride with you into
town!"
The young cop blanched. Then reluctantly nodded, affecting a scowl. What
choice did he have?
He didn't see Kulain's satisfied smile. It would have sent shivers down
his spine.
Mulder sighed tiredly, and headed for the rather fly blown diner on the
corner of the street, opposite the motel. He didn't feel much like
eating anyway, after the sights of the day, but his demon half demanded
nourishment, as red and rare as possible, and the place did have thick
steak on the menu, its one redeeming feature. Alex had gone ahead to
order, with Sean, while he finished typing up his profile for the
investigators. Not, as yet, a long document.
He didn't notice the very thin man who passed him on the street, and
who turned to look at the handsome man as he passed by. Mulder's
unconscious grace and the sleek power of his movements made the sorcerer
realise that this man was dangerous. Mulder was watched until he
passed out of sight. Then the sorcerer continued thoughtfully along the
street. He had seen such things before, once, long ago, in certain
forbidden areas in the Far East, during his own delvings into forbidden
knowledge. You could say that it took a predator to recognise another
hunter. He decided to be far more careful about covering his tracks. At
least until he had secured his power in this place and time. Whether the
beautiful demon man was hunting him he didn't know. But he was no easy
prey.
When the forefathers of Prospect had buried the undead sorcerer in a
secure coffin, bound by holy and unholy charms and seals, they had never
anticipated the folly and ignorance of modern man. A situation the
sorcerer planned to exploit to the full.
Ricky felt like he'd fallen into a black hole and come out in another
universe. Things like this just didn't happen to him! He never met
anyone famous, and he never, ever had supernatural things happen to him.
It was as if the whole town had gone crazy lately. What with the
whispers of something haunting the graveyards, and the recent
killings...... And now this! He was beginning to regret his recent
transfer to this town. Things had been simpler when he had lived up
north, less complicated.
He glanced in the mirror at the passenger who rode in the back of his
car. It gave him the creeps to be so close to this particular being.
Though he was determined not to let the demon see how nervous he was. He
swung his eyes back to the road, just in time to see something humanoid,
white and vaguely luminescent, cross his path. With a sudden curse he
slammed on the brakes and felt the car skid to a halt.
"What the hell....?"
Not an entirely apt choice of words in the circumstances. His passenger
was out of the car within moments of its coming to a standstill, peering
into the dusk with a distinctly puzzled expression.
His eyes..... Oh god!
Luminous green eyes with wide, enlarged slit pupils, scanning the
darkened brush at the side of the road, looking for the fast moving
thing that had crossed their path. Kulain shook his head.
"Gone! Whatever it was, it moved fast!" A frown. "Too fast for a human!"
Kulain watched the human flinch at his words, and shiver violently.
Ricky felt more than afraid at the moment. He was an experienced
officer, four years out of the police academy, and with a commendation
to his name. He wasn't easily bothered by night terrors. But it was an
isolated spot, and here he was looking for some apparently unnatural
creature, with a demon standing so close beside him. Perhaps Kulain
was the one responsible for the murders. His hand crept down to rest in
false reassurance against the cool grip of his gun.
It was a surprise then, for Kulain to smile at him gently and gesture
towards the car. Pretending disinterest, the young officer slid into the
driver's seat. Warily, he glanced at his companion. Kulain sat next to
him in the front passenger seat. He should have felt more nervous, being
closer to this deadly being. But oddly, it was reassuring.
Ricky Caruso didn't think he had ever been in such deep trouble with his
superiors. Not that he had been in town for very long, but he had
already been reprimanded twice. Once for getting a little too
enthusiastic with the pursuit of a suspect. Well, maybe not so
little..... And once for denting his car bumper in a small accident. Not
major league stuff like this! Bringing a demon into the town. That
particular demon, who had heads of state and presidents running around
after him like headless chickens.
He sat uncomfortably in the Chief's office, staring at the floor, trying
not to watch his inhuman companion, who rested one hand casually on the
desk, and was tapping disconcertingly, with one half-retracted talon on
the wooden surface. Irresistibly, while he waited for the Chief and his
staff to decide on a course of action, he found his gaze straying
towards the big demon. What the hell did you say to someone like that
for smalltalk. His fellow officers had given Ricky and his companion a
wide berth as they entered the station. Word had got around then. Even
wearing dark glasses to conceal his identity, not very successfully,
Kulain was dangerous looking. Ricky was beginning to fear that he would
be stuck with the responsibility of keeping Kulain out of trouble.
Yeah, sure! No problem! Let the new boy take all the heat!
The Chief returned, wreathed in false smiles. Kulain could make himself
comfortable in the office until his companions could be found. The word
was that the other three Tower operatives were staying over in the
Mandrell Motel, and had been assisting the investigation all day.
Someone had been sent to contact them. Officer Caruso would,
predictably, take care of his needs until then. Anything Kulain
wanted........
Ricky Caruso scowled at his superior. Not that it did any good. The word
was that Kulain's companions were not at the motel. It looked as though
Ricky would have to stay with the demon until they could be found.
Ricky stared, transfixed at the demon's hand, that rested on the table
next to him. In the two hours since he had arrived here, it had become
more and more difficult to avoid glancing at his enigmatic companion.
After all, he was breathing the same air, and staring at the same four
walls as the demon.
The demon's hand was long fingered, and by all accounts, immensely
strong. With a hint of the non-human heritage of its owner, a hint of
pointed fingernail with just a trace of green in the bed of the nail. He
didn't realise how intently he was staring at it. Slowly, irresistibly,
he reached out to touch the hand, needing to know whether it felt in
the least human.
Warm! Not cold or clammy or anything else he had imagined. If anything
slightly warmer than human. He lifted the hand and examined the nails,
pressing on one and gasping as it slid, unresisting out of its
retractable housing. Like a cats! For some reason, he felt the urge to
raise that hand to his face and rub his cheek against it. It would feel
good, he knew......
"Officer Caruso?" There was just a trace of sharpness in the demon's
voice. "Do you plan to hold hands with me all evening? I grow hungry,
and I don't think you want me to hunt for food round here. Not when
good steak would be a perfectly satisfactory alternative! I'm sure you
can direct me to a suitable restaurant....." He smiled wickedly at
Ricky, enjoying the sudden realisation that entered the feisty young
officer's face.
Ricky jerked back as if he had been stung, dropping Kulain's hand, his
eyes wide, as if he couldn't quite believe what he had just been doing.
Shocked green eyes watched him, and Kulain saw with satisfaction, the
rapid, agitated rise and fall of the young cop's chest.
Seduction was such fun. The hunt, the chase, the bringing down of
beautiful prey.....
The sorcerer gave a hiss of pleasure as he looked upon the offering his
servants had brought him. A female, pretty and unsuspecting. Who had
entered into a nightmare world when the zombies had kidnapped her from
her isolated home on the edge of town. Her life would buy him much
power, if the proper rituals were observed. Pain, blood and suffering
were paramount. The longer his sacrifice lasted, the more occult
strength the blood sacrifice would provide. He would raise a cone of
power sufficient to reanimate at least five other zombies. Smiling, he
raised the knife and made the first of many cuts.
Reaching out, grabbing for something you've got to feel,
Metallica—Lyrics to The struggle within.
Sometime tonight his world had tilted on its axis, the familiar bounds
that limited his horizons had disappeared. Quite when it had happened,
Ricky Caruso wasn't sure. But as he sat drinking at a local bar in the
city of Prospect, he knew that it all came down to the force a certain
enigmatic being had exerted on his life. Kulain. Demon, killer, dark
lord. Whatever he was, his wicked smile haunted Ricky still.
It had seemed simple enough. Take the demonlord to the hotel where his
trio of personnel were staying, and transfer him into their tender care.
Let them deal with him. He had protested of course, and he had known
that his superiors would make him pay, in the end for that mistake.
But being near Kulain was disturbing in a way he couldn't explain. He
hated Kulain for making him feel so very....... powerless.
He lifted up green eyes, fringed with long, dark lashes, and tried to
muster up a smile for the pretty girl who was behind the bar, serving
his latest drink. He was a regular in this place, and normally needed
little encouragement to flirt with her, ever optimistic about his
chances for romance. Tonight though, his usual casual banter felt so
insipid and pointless. He could pretend to himself for the rest of his
life that he wasn't affected by what he had seen. But it wouldn't be
true.
The door to room 34 of the Mandrell Hotel had been unerringly approached
by Kulain, almost as if he could sense his colleagues. Then he had
opened it, without even knocking. Ricky, following behind, had heard
gasps, then someone cried out in joy! Kulain had staggered back a few
steps, into Ricky's line of sight, his arms wrapped around a man in his
twenties, with piercing blue eyes. The guy had obviously leapt at Kulain
and was presently twining himself around the demonlord like a snake.
Ricky couldn't imagine anything he'd hate more. To be intimate with
Kulain! His mind conveniently forgot his own strange behaviour. But
that's exactly what Blue Eyes had done next. And what a kiss, open
mouthed, tongues probing, arms slipping down each other's bodies in
sensual caresses. In that moment, Officer Ricky Caruso learned more
about the demon world's interaction with humanity than he ever wanted to
know. But it was what happened next that had terrified him. Two other
men had come into view, both smiling, evidently as happy to see Kulain
as their companion. One of them was a handsome dark haired man, tall,
apparently in his early thirties, very self assured. And the second
one..........
He must have made some sound of shock, for the three men were suddenly
staring at him, and he had the brief but disconcerting impression,
probably because of their almost-glowing eyes, that they would have
killed him if he had been in any way threatening. They had reacted so
quickly. As if, for a moment, they weren't quite human.
The third man...... It was like looking in a mirror, and seeing himself
as he might be in about five years!
Kulain met his gaze, and gave quite the most wicked smile he had ever
seen. And Ricky realised that from the beginning, Kulain had been
playing a game with him.
His nerve finally broke, and Ricky Caruso unashamedly fled the scene,
his flight taking him back towards police headquarters.
And there, at headquarters, he was given the news. There was the
ultimate disgrace of being partnered tomorrow with Grace Mayberry, Ms.
Traffic Ticket herself, as if he was still a probationer, because of
his poor performance in the field today. Because he hadn't managed to
get rid of Kulain. Something the President of the United States himself
found impossible to do. The whole responsibility for Kulain's presence
in the town would be Ricky's. He had been so freaked out by the sight of
his double that he hadn't even offered a word in his defence.
The pretty barmaid's voice broke into his troubled thoughts.
"Want another, Ricky?"
He shook his head. Not even the prospect of a pleasant flirtation could
dispel his sense of foreboding.
"It's been a hell of an evening. I think I'll just call it a day."
Yeah. One Hell of a day
Kulain was playing one of his infrequent but disturbing games with his
lovers. The last time they had gone through this, Mulder mused, they had
ended up with Sean in their bed, when Kulain had decided to increase his
little harem by one. What the hell did he intend now? The three of them
had been more than a little surprised to see the young cop who had
escorted the demon to the Hotel. His resemblance to Alex was disturbing,
to say the least. And the way Kulain had smiled at the young man had
rung alarm bells inside Mulder's skull. Like he was the big bad bear who
just wanted to eat the cop up or ........
Or something just as predatory.....
Fox Mulder was beginning to understand a lot of what motivated his
lover. And one of Kulain's principal instincts seemed to be the need to
hunt. There was an aggressive side to him that was generally satisfied
by assertive and dominant sexual activity. But like a lion caged, he
still had those same inner desires, that could never entirely be
satisfied, or concealed. Like all males of his species, he had a
powerful urge to spread his seed as wide as possible, to maximise the
chances of reproductive success. In essence, to have sex with as many
humans as possible, to spread his DNA far and wide throughout the gene
pool.
Understanding his big lover didn't make it any easier to accept Kulain's
desire for yet another man. But there was no changing Kulain's nature.
Kulain had a new target in sight, and the fact that the cop looked like
Alex would only make things worse. And besides, whatever the demon did,
Mulder was by now too closely bound to his lover, too addicted to the
feel of Kulain driving into him. That brief thought alone made Fox
Mulder moan and rub at his hardening nipples, trying to simulate the
feel of the demon's teeth nipping at his flesh. He whimpered anew at the
sensation.
Kulain had heard Mulder's small noises of need, and was moving towards
his possession, dark lust in his eyes. Mulder automatically dropped to
all fours before him, bracing his body so that he could withstand the
power of Kulain's penetrating thrusts. He caught sight briefly of Alex
and Sean writhing together on the bed. Then he lost interest in
everything except the demon's more-than-human shaft driving deep into
his body, at a pace that drove away all thought and reason. Tonight was
going to be taxing for all three of Kulain's lovers. There was a dark
hunger inside the demon, and Mulder knew why.
Maybe if he and the others exhausted Kulain tonight, the demon would
forget the young cop.........
Sure! There was about as much chance of that as of the Smoker helping
them defeat the aliens.
He felt a momentary pity for the undeniably pretty human. But his own
acquisitive instincts whispered betraying things........ What would the
cop be like in bed? Would he really be like Alex.......? Hating himself
for such beguiling thoughts, he threw himself into the self appointed
task of distracting Kulain.... and himself.... from the young cop.
And Alex watched the face of his unusually thoughtful partner with an
uneasy frown.
The Sorcerer was almost ready to strike against the citizens of the
little town when he became aware of the presence of another powerful
being close by. He had not spent years studying dark occult forces
without being able to sense the proximity of a demon. For who else could
have created the enhanced human he had seen in the town earlier. It
presented an almost insurmountable problem for him. Two hunters in one
small area, both looking for humans to serve their needs. Conflict would
ensue, unless he took the greatest care. It was time to change his
plans, to become more subtle in his approach. He damned his luck in
being detected so quickly by those who had the power to stop him. But
all was not lost. The priority now became the gathering of intelligence
on this enemy.
Things had indeed changed over the years, if demons now served the law
in this country. So he must look to the law to supply him with
information. And seek new allies in his quest for power. Or rather, one
very old, very sly ally who would do much for the promise of blood.
"You ought to go back to Washington, Sean." Mulder grinned at the
expression of disappointment that his partner showed. "I'm serious. We
need to find out more about the character who was buried in that old
grave. And the woman at the county courthouse claimed that a whole stack
of papers relating to the history of the town were placed in the Library
of Congress about twenty years ago. We really need to know more about
the town legends....."
Sean sighed. Fox Mulder had a way of getting what he wanted that was
almost foolproof. Perhaps it was the way he smiled, or the husky tone to
his voice when it became low and persuasive. But Sean knew he would
comply. As ever.
"I'm going to take Alex and check over the last crime scene again. Maybe
there's something we missed. Then we'll check the other graveyards in
the area to see if they've been disturbed. Call me if you find
anything."
Assuming of course, that Sean was going to do as he was asked. Which of
course he would. But driving to Washington and back in one day was going
to be exhausting. Mulder abruptly dispersed all of his resentment and
irritation by reaching out spontaneously and hugging him, and for a
moment, they leaned together, in an instinctive strengthening of their
bonds of affection.
Sean wondered how they had ever gotten to be so close, the three of
them. But were they Kulain's lovers or his concubines?
Ricky Caruso sighed and prepared for the most boring afternoon of his
life. The delectable Grace, one of the most irritating women he had ever
met, and also one of the most muscular, was writing up her twelfth
traffic violation in the two hours since they had started this shift.
The woman was a tiger when it came to bureaucracy. Which made him wonder
how differently she would have handled yesterday's fiasco with the
Demonlord. Not that it mattered. He was being put firmly in his place by
the powers-that-be. As if a mistake about a random traffic check was
within his control.
This ticket was being written for not using the correct car lights,
because even though it was only early afternoon, the fog had descended
over the town, as it frequently did at this time of year. And Grace saw
the carelessness of drivers in the fog as a heaven sent opportunity to
beat her all time record of twenty tickets in one afternoon.
Ricky felt like handing in his notice and seeking another job. Maybe on
the West Coast. Yeah. A job with the California Highway Patrol maybe,
riding one of those spectacular bikes in the warmer climate of Malibu,
with the hedonistic lifestyle it implied. He allowed himself to
daydream, forgetting for a moment the reality of his situation. That
is, until Grace climbed back into the passenger side of the patrol car
and gestured peremptorily for him to move on. Suppressing anew the surge
of irritation he felt, he obeyed. One of these days he was going to make
the arrest of a lifetime and become famous..... Visions of guest slots
on daytime talk shows materialised, and he imagined his face on the
cover of more than one magazine. Maybe he should have arrested Kulain.
That would really have made his name a household word.....
He barely managed to slam on the brakes in time as a terrified woman
emerged from the fog, her clothing torn, bleeding from a dozen
lacerations on her face and body. Only a piece of smart steering
directed the patrol car away from her. He and Grace emerged from the
patrol car simultaneously and rushed forwards. Ricky vaguely recognised
the woman as a nurse from the local hospital. He remembered checking her
out one time. But in her present condition, she wouldn't be winning any
beauty pageants for a while. With an incoherent whimper, she pointed a
trembling finger towards the swirling fog that cloaked the entrance to
the hospital grounds. That co-incidentally or not, ran parallel to an
old cemetery.
"I was walking home....... Someone.... something..... attacked me......"
She barely managed to stammer the words before sagging in a half faint
against the side of the patrol car.
"Stay here Ricky. Look after her! I'll check it out while you call for
back-up." Before he could raise an objection, his new partner
disappeared into the fog, weapon drawn. Within a few steps, he couldn't
even hear her any more, not clearly. The fog seemed to refract and
intermingle sounds so that he wasn't sure any more what direction his
partner had moved in.
Then he heard the shots, six fired in quick succession. There was a
momentary silence, then a terrible scream, rising out of the fog, going
silent with a horrible gargling that choked off abruptly.
Ricky didn't remember drawing his gun. Only that it was in his hand as
he ran forward. He had shoved the nurse into his patrol car and locked
the door quickly, then took off in the direction he thought the scream
had come from. But after only half a minute, he knew he had mistaken the
position of the victim in the fog. Either that, or he had become
disoriented himself. For he was no longer in the well manicured grass of
the hospital grounds. The earth underfoot was muddy and rank weeds were
poking out of the ground, brushing the legs of his pants with slime.
Then he stumbled against something on the ground and fell to his knees.
He put one hand out and found himself touching a long fallen grave
marker, half hidden in the long grass. Even as he knelt, he heard
something move close beside him, and before he could react, something
barrelled into his body from behind, knocking him flat on his face
against the cold marble of the memorial. He tried to twist round, but
there was an impossibly heavy weight on his back and he found it almost
impossible to move.
A foul smell began to percolate through the damp air, and he choked with
disgust at the loathsome odour of decay that filled his nostrils. He
fumbled for his gun, which was inches away from his fingers, but then a
foot descended on his hand and he realised that not one, but two
attackers were present. The second one chuckled, an obscene sound that
made him shiver, there was something not quite human about that sound,
as if it came from a throat that had long since ceased to make human
speech. Dully he raised his head, trying to make out the identity of his
attackers.
An unholy sight met his eyes. A grinning long dead corpse, skin greenish
and oozing unnameable fluids. With eyes that burned a hellish yellow. A
maggoty tongue emerged from the peeling lips and licked them hungrily.
And Ricky screamed as he realised he was on the menu.
Kulain had watched his three humans go their separate ways without
complaint. He wanted, for once, to be alone, so he could examine the
evidence brought by his sharp senses. There was something about this
place that bothered him. Some hint of darkness, old, past living memory,
that suggested an evil had once dwelt there for a long time. Perhaps the
sorcerer of local legend. Whatever it was, the power was stirring again.
The power he sensed had a hint of almost Stygian evil. Some power
connected to the time when demons and other malign forces had freely
walked the earth. To a time when human sacrifice was common and a hunger
for blood had ruled. He was old. But not that old, and despite his
power, he knew enough to be wary in seeking out this opponent.
Slowly, he extended his senses, and began to search for the source of
the evil. As the other was no doubt doing with him. And when he had a
bearing for the source of power, he moved out to seek it, heading west,
out of town towards the other side of the valley. Almost immediately, he
felt the power stir as it sensed his hunt. And the power dimmed as its
owner withdrew from such a flamboyant display of energy. It made the
hunt far harder, but at least Kulain had a better idea of where to look.
Then he felt a brief, almost imperceptible stir as the other used magic
to cover his trail. Fog began to pour down the sides of the valley.
So be it. The hunt was on, and Kulain would not allow himself to be
defeated. He continued to search, moving far faster than a human. At
least the fog the enemy had created had some benefits. For he could move
far faster than humans without hindrance, in its concealment.
"Blood........" the Zombie hissed, the word barely recognisable in its
misshapen mouth. Eagerly, it reached for Ricky, grabbing at the young
cop's hair, and pulling his head back. The other zombie that knelt on
his back hissed in agreement. Ricky cried out hoarsely, and struggled
uselessly. They were far stronger than human, the force that animated
their decaying bodies more than made up for their disintegrating
condition. Ricky suddenly realised why there had been odd body parts
left at the scene of two of the recent atrocities. The killers weren't
human. At least, not any more.....
The zombie chuckled again and a bony finger was extended to press
painfully into his throat, as if testing the succulence of the flesh.
The zombie nodded to its companion. Then Ricky saw the second one's
hand, with its long curving nails, reaching down to caress his throat.
He swallowed convulsively as the nails stroked his throat. Then he saw
the bowl that was placed under him and he realised that he was going to
die.
"No!"
The word wasn't his, someone else had spoken. Before Ricky could take in
that fact, the weight was wrenched away from him and flung with
incredible strength against a grave marker. As it feebly struggled to
rise again, a dark form lunged past Ricky and he had a brief glimpse of
long talons arching downwards. Then his attacker was literally torn to
pieces. The form moved to the still stirring second attacker and
finished him off.
Ricky pressed his forehead against the cool marble beneath him, too
stunned to move, drawing in long, shuddering breaths as he realised how
close he had come to death.
"A life!" The voice was low but authoritative. It cut through the fog in
his brain, and the young cop lifted his head to look at his rescuer.
Kulain leaned in casual amusement, against a tomb. He casually seated
himself on it. Ricky stood up shakily and moved away from the foul
smelling corpses. He stumbled forward, unconsciously moving closer to
the safety of Kulain's commanding presence.
"You owe me a life, Officer Caruso. In my culture, that means you must
do me a service in return. Serve my body's needs and there will be no
debt between us."
Ricky shivered as he watched his rescuer. The thought of being left
alone in this terrible place was more than he could bear. He nodded
finally.
"What do you want from me?" Ricky said hoarsely. His green eyed gaze
intersected with Kulain's The demon gave a wicked smile, that made Ricky
tremble with more than cold or fear.
"Something I don't get from any other being, little one....... Worship
me!" There was a low undertone of darkness in the demon's voice that
made Ricky momentarily dizzy. He found himself staring at the erection
that had suddenly begun to rise between his rescuer's legs. Before he
could analyse his reactions, he had fallen to his knees before the big
demon. His legs felt incredibly weak and shaky, so the young cop had
little choice but to obey the unspoken demand. The position put him a
foot away from Kulain, with his face level with the demon's bulging
maleness. He moaned in fear, his eyes drawn unwilling to the huge
swelling of Kulain's erection. Kulain leaned back on his marble resting
place, and one hand reached down to free his erection from restrictive
human style clothing.
Ricky Caruso moaned when he saw the size of it, longer and thicker than
a human's, surely at the limits of human tolerance. He backed away
slightly, saw the demon lips curve in amusement.
"Well, pretty one? Show me how much you owe me for saving your life...."
Ricky shook his head in terror, momentarily speechless.
"..... I can't....." he whispered.
Unexpectedly. Kulain laughed. Ricky flushed, and as the demon's
amusement intensified, the young cop glared at his rescuer, fear
forgotten.
"I'm not scared of you!" he snarled, bravado momentarily overcoming
caution.
"Prove it!" Kulain challenged.
Ricky knew what Kulain wanted. Some form of sex as payment for a life.
He had agreed to this. But he hadn't thought the consequences through.
In the end, he didn't actually know how to pleasure another man. He had
never even contemplated such an act.
"How?" Ricky said nervously.
Kulain watched the human try to figure out how to avoid the situation he
found himself in. Did Ricky know how obvious he was making it that he
was a virgin with men? Probably not, though his desperate exertions on
behalf of his virtue were only serving to make Kulain want him more. The
urge to play with one's prey, after the capture, but before he moved in
to finish the game.
Finally, Kulain relented a little.
"Use your hands, little one. That will satisfy me...... for now."
Ricky Caruso's eyes narrowed a little. But when it became obvious to the
young cop that he wasn't going to be nailed to the floor and raped
within an inch of his life, he relaxed slightly. Hesitantly, nervously,
one hand reached forward to touch another male's erection for the first
time. Ricky gasped at the heat thrown off by Kulain's stiff member. It
felt heavy in his hands, so hard that he felt a little shiver run down
his spine at the thought of what it must be like to have that powering
its way inside you. The demon hissed at the feel of the young cop's
inexpert touch.
Hesitantly, Ricky ran his fingers along Kulain's cock from base to tip.
The demon closed his eyes and sighed in pleasure. The singing of his
blood from his earlier hunt was still present. It would take little
effort at the moment to satisfy him. Then Ricky Caruso began to pull at
the erection he held, in imitation of the masturbatory strokes he used
when he sought his own pleasure. Then he began to rub at the glistening
tip, spreading the glistening droplets of pre-cum across the swollen
head and trailing his fingers across the veined length of it. Kulain
moaned, barely able to hold himself back from plundering the human, and
finding out what treasures his blue uniform concealed. Right now,
Ricky's face was fixed in concentration, perhaps not as indifferent as
he pretended.
It was strange to be doing this. In a way awesome. That one of the most
powerful beings in the world was in his hands, sensually stirring as he
was brought to satisfaction by Ricky Caruso, small town cop. Yet it was
also terrifying. Ricky had never done this sort of thing before. Why
only the sort of street scum he arrested daily gave hand jobs to men in
public places. Why did the thought make him breath faster? Why did he
stare in fascination at the drops of liquid that formed at the tip of
Kulain's cock? Why did his mind keep producing the most erotic,
blasphemous images of himself, lying on white, silken sheets while
Kulain.......
He found himself breathing hard, panting almost, as his hands moved ever
faster in their busy task.
Kulain cried out hoarsely, and a shudder ran through his big frame.
Hands reached out and caught at Ricky, claws momentarily emerging and
catching in the dark fabric of Ricky's jacket as Kulain came. Jets of
pearly semen spurted from the tip of Kulain's penis, with more than
human force, and splattered across the younger man's face and hair,
momentarily catching the light like a line of glittering jewels. Kulain
gently stroked the bowed head, hearing the shuddering breaths gradually
steady as Ricky's heartbeat slowed, and his body recovered from the
unexpected exertion. Kulain ran a taloned hand through the human's hair,
finely combing it with his talons. The human allowed the caress. He
looked dazed, as if he was sleepwalking. Irresistibly, Kulain kissed
him, a hard, demanding kiss that made the human moan, and cling to him
momentarily, before he regained his composure, and pushed the demon away
from his lips..
Ricky lifted a finger, and wiped a sticky droplet from his cheek. The
finger slowly descended towards Ricky's kiss reddened lips, carrying a
pearly droplet. The lush lips parted, the finger closer than ever to
them. The droplet started to trickle down Ricky's finger, and the young
cop turned his hand, watching the motion. The human's head tilted as he
started to slide his finger between those responsive lips Kulain tensed
slightly, his lips curving in pleased anticipation of the total
possession of Ricky Caruso. The moment that his essence would enter the
human and bind him, body and soul to the demon forever.
But some feral instinct in the human must have sensed Kulain's tension.
The green eyes suddenly widened as if Ricky suddenly realised what he
was doing.
With a gasp of horror, Ricky Caruso jerked away from Kulain, flinging
his hand wide. The droplet flew away from him, splattering against
marble, as he shook his head, eyes wide in denial.
"No.....!"
He was on his feet and running away from Kulain, terror at his own
actions making him flee as far away as possible from Kulain, panicked
and uncomprehending. He wiped his hand frantically against his thigh,
trying to wipe away the feel of the demon seed on his fingers.
Kulain sighed as he watched Caruso flee. The human really was exquisite.
The best ones were, of course, the hardest to capture and tame.
Ricky stared dully at his reflection in the men's room mirror of the
police station. He had called for backup, when he had finally found his
patrol car, but no trace of Grace could be found. The search still
continued, despite the fog which was thicker than ever. He had been sent
back to the station to give a statement, but it was clear that his
confused tale of zombies and demons wasn't believed.
Despite his efforts to conceal the evidence, the droplets of semen had
dried to whiteness on his skin and clothing within minutes. He thought,
briefly, that he looked like a whore. It was in his hair, on his blue
shirt and his one and only dark police jacket. And worse still, the
Police chief, his boss, had noticed something amiss. Ricky had seen the
eyes widen, and something suspiciously like contempt had crossed the
older man's face. Ricky closed his eyes and rested his head for a moment
against the coolness of the mirror. God knows what they thought he had
been doing when his partner had disappeared. He doubted somehow, whether
his career was going to survive this.
He tugged the jacket off, intending to scrub at it in the sink. He
could smell the demon's essence, a musky aroma that carried with it a
hint of some dizzying scent, one that made his heart beat faster and
sent a wave of heat through his body. Other parts of his body stirred,
as almost unconsciously, he buried his face in the dark fabric and
rubbed it against his face. Then jerked back as he realised how easily
he was being carried away once again by his most secret desires.
He began to frantically scrub at the deposits, trying to hide the
evidence of his encounter. Too little, too late. He was shocked to the
core at his own compliance with Kulain's desires. Deeply and utterly
ashamed of his own actions. How could he have sunk so low? To touch
another man was horror enough for the young cop, having been brought up
in a deeply conservative home. But with a demon! And afterwards, to
automatically reach out to lick his hand clean .......
He doubled up over the sink and began to void the contents of his
stomach. And he continued to retch, long after he had done just that.
Another disappearance. And as luck would have it, at the opposite end of
town from where they had been searching. Mulder sighed, and sank down on
a bench in the outer office of the Police Station. He was tired from
spending most of the day walking through tangled undergrowth and swampy
edge-of-town wasteland. He could really use a shave and a shower right
now. Then something hot and juicy from the steak-house, maybe. Alex, as
always, had more energy, so had followed the cops to the scene of the
latest outrage. If there was anything there, he would find it.
Mulder rubbed at his eyes tiredly, then leaned back and surveyed the
room. He saw a door swing open and to his surprise, the young cop they
had seen earlier emerged. He really did look like Alex. He also looked
just about as tired and miserable as a man could get. He really did look
so much like Alex. It was uncanny.
Mulder found himself almost reflexively moving towards the human. Later
he would reason with himself that he was acting as though this was
Alex. But somehow, he had to comfort the unhappy young cop. He stood in
front of Ricky, and reached out towards the seated man. And perhaps
because he was so tired, so confused by the day's events, Ricky didn't
try to resist Mulder as he tilted the young cop's chin up to peer into
slightly dazed green eyes. Ricky looked adorable, slightly flustered by
Fox Mulder's touch, yet instinctively responding to the compassion in
the Tower employee's eyes.
Innocent green eyes, Mulder realised in surprise. When had Alex ever
been without that knowing smile or the dangerous edge brought by a life
of hardship unimagined by most people. Ricky's distinctive naivete was
like an aura about the young cop, something Mulder realised he could
perceive only because of his inhuman instincts. There was a lingering
trace of Kulain's scent, overlaying that of the young cop, a spicy hint
of maleness and sex. Kulain had been amusing himself already then. But
not fully. Mulder couldn't sense any demon quality within Ricky. Not
yet.
Was this how Kulain saw the world? No wonder he sought out beautiful men
like Sean or Ricky. To taste of their sweetness. Before he could reason
how or why, he was moving forward to kiss the utterly fuckable lips,
covering them with his own in a kiss that took control of the perfect
mouth, plundering it, sliding his tongue inside and taking what he
desired. Ricky moaned, and for a moment kissed back, unable to resist
the singing in his blood, as he reacted to the demon presence close to
him.
Then he was slammed against the wall, as Mulder's kiss became more
fierce, more intense. Ricky gasped, and the sound was smothered by the
pressure of the mouth covering his. He wanted to cling to the other man
with every fibre of his being. He could feel Fox Mulder's arousal, and
almost instinctively, he arched his body against Mulder's, grinding his
own hardness against the others thigh as it pressed insistently between
his legs.
Fortunately or not, it was at that moment that the Police Captain
emerged from his office with some of his men and it was his cry of shock
that broke the spell. An aghast Ricky saw a group of his colleagues
staring at him as he very publicly flushed his career down the drain.
With all his strength, he pushed Mulder away, and fled, ignoring the
puzzled glances of other, as yet ignorant colleagues as he ran down the
hallways and out into the early evening darkness. The story would get
around soon enough about what Ricky Caruso got up to when he should have
been on duty.
Mulder closed his eyes and leaned against the wall. How could he have
been so stupid? Not only had he compromised the professional
relationship he had with another law enforcement colleague, but he had
also tried to betray Alex. A fine time to decide he liked his sex in
public. For he had been ready to fuck the young cop through the wall,
and nothing else had mattered in those few moments except the feel of
the warm human body against his.
As prey?
Ricky ran, his heart thundering, stressed beyond his limits by what
Kulain, and now Fox Mulder, had tried to do to him. They both wanted
him. And to his eternal horror and shame, he had wanted to be taken.
He had wanted to accept their kisses and more..... And it had been so
very hard to resist his own traitorous body. He had to get away. He ran
desperately towards the darkened parking lot that lay nearby, intending
to drive to his small apartment and shower again and again until he felt
clean again. Until he didn't smell of demons and sex any more. He never
saw the figure climbing out of the rental car, only felt the impact as
he collided clumsily with Alex Krycek and both of them fell in a tangle
of limbs to the ground.
Alex smothered a curse and struggled free of the weight pressing down on
him, barely noting the firm muscularity of the other's body. He knew who
it was, his night vision was adequate to that task. His hated rival. The
cop who looked so much like him that he had piqued the interest of
Kulain. Alex also had a dawning suspicion that Mulder was following his
pack leader's example, and was more than a little curious about Officer
Ricky Caruso. But perhaps he was just being paranoid.....?
Maintaining an expression of neutrality, he dusted himself off and then
raised his eyes to scan the cop's face. He hadn't intended to show any
reaction to the other. But that was before he caught the scent of Ricky
Caruso.
A heady mixture of human pheromones, nowhere near as potent as their
demon counterparts. But enough to broadcast lingering traces of the
human's arousal from so close a distance. And something else, that made
Alex's nostrils flare in annoyance. The familiar musky scent of Kulain's
seed, faint, as if hours old.
And most impossible of all, the recent, delectable scent, sweet to him
as a perfume, of Fox Mulder.
Something dark uncoiled within him, and before he knew what he was
doing, he had raised his fist and punched Caruso full in the face. He
had a brief glimpse of wide eyed shock, then Ricky Caruso, blood
streaming down from his probably broken nose, aimed a smart right cross
at Alex's face. There was nothing wrong with the cop's reactions,
stunned or not. The blow impacted on Alex's cheekbone, and would produce
a spectacular contusion in hours to come.
Then the two of them were wildly fighting, throwing punches at each
other, Alex letting out all of the anxiety and insecurity he felt, while
Ricky was only too glad to ease his frustration in a good old fist
fight. Within a few moments, however, he began to realise that he was
more than outclassed by the phenomenal strength of the Tower employee.
It was when Alex was astride him, Ricky's head between his hands,
pounding his rival's skull against the tarmac that Ricky began to worry.
Alex Krycek's fists were like steel, hammering again and again into his
chest and stomach. And suddenly, it was no longer a fight to win, but a
contest for survival. It was hard just to hold the other man at bay, to
block those fists from the more delicate areas of his body.
With a snarl of frustration at the human's defensive tactics, Alex
shifted. And suddenly Ricky was beneath a green eyed demon, and the
fists were now claws. He shrieked as long sharp claws tore into the
thick fabric of the jacket covering his forearm, then tried to score
along the side of his face. With a last, desperate effort, he twisted
his body so that he could reach a rock lying on the ground nearby. And
he brought it up in an arc whose intersection was Alex Krycek's head.
Ricky saw the green eyes go very wide, then the light died in them as
Alex slumped unconscious to the ground.
Oh shit! Now what was he going to do?
A solution presented itself. He would drive the other man back to the
hotel and leave him there, where he could get proper help. Then Ricky
decided he was going to hand in his notice and get the hell out of town.
By the time he had driven half way across town, there were signs that
Alex was stirring. The older man groaned, and his clawed demon hands
scrabbled at the upholstery in a reflex action. Ricky swore softly to
himself, and pulled the car over a block away from the hotel. He somehow
managed to get Alex in through the service entrance and left him. As if
he didn't already have enough trouble without this!
Alex really felt odd. There was an ache in his head and his brain felt
full of the fog that had been swirling around the valley all day.
Groggily, he sat up, trying to remember how he had got there. All he
could recall was being in the car coming back from a crime scene,
then...... Nothing. If only his head didn't ache so. He stumbled into
the lift car and made his way back to his room, his inhuman vitality
lending him strength.
Kulain looked up when he entered, his expression quizzical when he saw
that Alex's appearance was so rough and unkempt. Then his nose wrinkled.
There was, for a moment, a hauntingly familiar scent about Alex. But the
stink of human blood was the dominating factor that overwhelmed his
senses. It was one thing his race excelled in detecting. He approached
Alex, who watched him with an odd look of confusion in his eyes. Kulain
reached for Alex's hand, and traced his fingers across the splintered
talons.
"Alex?" Kulain expressed gentle concern for his beloved partner.
Mulder chose that moment to enter. He whistled as he took in Alex's
rumpled appearance.
"Tough day, love?"
The pain in Alex's head abruptly intensified, as a fragment of memory
emerged.
"Get off me!" He yanked his hand away from Kulain. "Don't touch me! You
don't want me anyway. You want that cop!"
They were both staring at him now. And he knew something else with
certainty.
"You kissed him Fox. You both want him! You don't want me any more!"
Before either of his partners could react, he lashed out with his claws
at Kulain, and connected, the claws sinking deep into the other's cheek,
lacerating. He heard Mulder's horrified gasp.
Then Alex saw something dark and deadly rise up in the demon's eyes, and
he screamed in terror. He flung himself backwards with demon fast
reflexes, and crashed out of the hotel window, falling from the third
floor window to the street. Only those same reflexes making him land in
a catlike stance saved his life. Then he was running in a blind panic,
away, anywhere distant from Kulain. And it was only the pain in his head
that finally stopped him, as he fell, clawing at the agony in his skull.
Bright, impossible images swirled around him in the fog, and he
whimpered in confusion and despair.
Mulder had watched Alex's bizarre behaviour with disbelief. And then he
had seen in dismay, what Alex had done. He had never seen such a
terrible cold anger in Kulain before. It made him want to run and hide
himself. But then he had seen the demon tense, as if to follow Alex. And
before he could consider the danger he was in, he had leapt in front of
Kulain, blocking his path. For a brief instant, he looked death in the
face. And forced himself to reach out a trembling hand to touch Kulain
in appeal.
Incredibly, Kulain turned aside his wrath. The demon turned instead to
the hotel room, and began to systematically destroy the fixtures,
working out his rage on inanimate objects instead. What the hell had
made Alex behave like that. Surely he couldn't have seen......
But what if he had?
There is a rigidly established social hierarchy, with a dominant male in
charge of the group, and the others ranged below him in varying degrees
of subordination. As the group stays together all the time, his role as
a group tyrant is incessantly operative. He asserts himself when
something crops up that cannot be shared, or when there are signs of a
revolt or unruly fighting amongst the younger males.
Desmond Morris—The Naked Ape
Alex Krycek had spent last night and most of the morning huddled
miserably in the basement of an old warehouse. He sat on the dusty
floor, leaning back against the wall behind him, knees drawn up with his
arms wrapped around them. His head was throbbing with the most
exquisitely torturous pain, and he possessed no greater ambition at this
point than to stay where he was and let his enhanced metabolism cope
with the injury the little slut had given him. How the hell had an
untrained human got the better of him? He hadn't been beaten by a
human in a fight for a long, long time. And then to so mess up things
with his lovers. He ought to know by now that Fox was his. His whole
knee-jerk reaction had been based on a single whiff of Mulder's scent on
the cop's clothing. But the thought of anyone with his Fox was
unbearable. He found it easier to understand Kulain's desire for the
cop. Kulain was..... well..... assertive when it came to sex.
But it would have been so much better to have killed the cop.
Now Kulain was angry with him; he shivered at the thought. And Fox was
probably so worried.
If only his headache would go away, he might feel like trying to
straighten out his life. But for the moment, he would stay there. Let
Kulain calm down and let Fox become a little more anxious, more
appreciative....... Time could only work to his advantage. Tomorrow
would be soon enough to sort this mess out
With a self-pitying sigh, he leaned his head against the welcome
coolness of the wall behind him, preparing to enjoy a good sulk.
Alex Krycek hadn't returned all day. Not that Kulain expected him back
at the moment. Their fierce dispute had scared his beautiful,
challenging Alex and it would take time for the green eyed assassin to
regain his equilibrium. Mulder was out searching for him right now, but
when Alex didn't want to be found, there was little likelihood of Mulder
being successful. There was no-one who could match Alex Krycek for
slyness. Alex was like a skittish thoroughbred, finely tuned, sensitive
to a threat. Hard to gentle such a one.
He knew that Alex had smelt of blood and pain. He knew also, the
pressures Alex would feel as his instinctive territorial desires came
into play. Demons often fought over hunting space, and availability of
prey. But still, Kulain had been caught unawares by the violence of
his lover's reaction. So foolish, even careless of him to assume his
control of Alex was total. Like stepping in the path of a tornado. Not
necessarily fatal for his kind, but assuredly painful and destructive.
There had been a torment in those eyes as Alex was driven beyond the
bounds of sense or reason. And Kulain had been there to blame for all
Alex's many insecurities.
Alex was so beautiful, but so disrespectful. And Kulain's instincts
warred with reason, as he felt the surge of the beast within him. He had
disciplined Alex once before, and lost himself in the sweetness of that
lush body. And now it was so much harder to repress the urge to find his
wayward lover, and teach Alex his place in the scheme of things.
Which would always be subordinate to his pack leader.
The urge to press that body beneath his and bite, to take and hear the
ecstatic whimpers after Alex grovelled and begged forgiveness, and was
generously pardoned....... Eventually!
Kulain sighed. With thoughts like this, he was more than ready to ready
to sheath himself in the delectable flesh of a willing human. But Mulder
had gone after Alex, and Sean was still in Washington. Which left only
his pretty little cop, who was alas not ready for a demon in his bed.
Unless an unexpected stroke of luck delivered him to his master on a
platter.
Ah well, perhaps if he fed, it would take the edge off more than one of
his appetites.
Kulain slipped out into the darkness and began to hunt.
The scent of demon invaded the very air around this accursed town. Or so
it seemed. The sorcerer could sense his most dangerous opponent nearby,
moving in a hunting pattern, seeking prey. Oh yes, he knew quite well
this type of being. He had encountered them before in the dim and
distant past, when he was weaker and less confident about facing one in
combat. He had prudently withdrawn and his presence had remained unknown
to the demon. But the failed combat had made him plan for the day he
would meet such a formidable opponent again. The stakes were high this
time. His very existence depended on gathering sufficient resources to
survive in this unexpectedly hostile world, full of threatening demon
kin.
He would have to call upon the dark gods who dwelt in the deepest
reaches of the Netherworld. The pre-human, primeval evil from the limits
of hell that even a demon would fear. The thought of it chilled even his
undead flesh. But there would also be benefits to such a partnership.
The human servant of such a being would be granted so much power, if the
dark one was released from the place where it was incarcerated.
He called his zombie servants to him, and issued a series of commands.
Certain preparations were under way. Ten screaming captives were about
to be sacrificed, and certain passages would be solemnly intoned from
the forbidden book, the Necronomicon. And one of his captives would be
chosen by the dark forces he called upon, reanimated as a host for the
nameless one.
The demon would die. And then there would be no force strong enough to
withstand him.
He drew the book towards him and began the ritual.
Ricky cursed Kulain. He cursed Fox Mulder. And most of all, he cursed
himself for being so weak and stupid that he had yielded to their
advances. Publicly! The last time had been right in the Police Station,
in front of his own Police Chief. If he had wanted to commit social and
career suicide, he couldn't have chosen a better method. This morning
when he had talked in the Chief's office, last night's little incident
hadn't been mentioned. The chief didn't really need to give a reason for
suspending Ricky from duty for a week after the young cop had lost his
partner. But the contempt had been there in the chief's face, and more
than one of his fellow officers had sniggered when they saw him. The
most humiliating moment had been when he had gone to collect his gear
from the locker room, and he had found a half dozen packets of condoms
taped to the front of his locker. His face flaming, he couldn't get out
of there fast enough. And the sly comments from his colleagues as he
made his way out of the building. He couldn't get out of there fast
enough.
And after that he had just walked, needing to get his thoughts straight.
He felt so desperately confused over his feelings for the two attractive
men who had entered his life. Except one of them wasn't a man, but
something much darker and more frightening. Ricky swore softly, and
shivered at the sudden chill he felt. Well, at least his nose wasn't
broken. For a moment, he had thought Krycek had broken it, but the
bruising was spectacular enough, and just another source of speculation
for his colleagues.
He ended up outside a construction site, a few minutes walk out of town,
and sank down onto the edge of a steel girder, to sit and work things
out.
His father would be the first to turn his back on his son. For years,
John Caruso had called his son effeminate and spineless at the slightest
hint of weakness. Now he would claim that he had known all along how the
young fool would turn out. Nothing Ricky had ever done had pleased him.
Wearing a police uniform was a poor second to joining the Marines and
proving himself a man like his father had in 'Nam and many other
conflicts, as a serving military officer.
Ricky pulled out his shining Police shield and stared at it in hopeless
misery. Failed yet again! Just like his father said he would! With a low
cry of grief, he flung the badge as far as he could, and heard it
clatter among some nearby sewer pipes that were piled up, awaiting
installation in a nearby trench. What was the point of it all? His
career was finished, and he was sure that the Police Chief would spread
the word about his failures if he tried to get another job in law
enforcement. For a moment, he felt the hot sting of tears against his
cheeks. Damn Kulain. Damn them all.
The distant sound of thunder seemed to echo his dark mood. Odd, so soon
after fog. He didn't pursue the thought. His mind was still trying to
sort out his troubles. What choices did he face in the end? Two of them.
To go back home, tail between his legs, or to brazen things out with his
fellow officers. Neither option would be easy.
He wasn't a damned quitter! Why the hell should he let them drive him
out of town! He could at least try to repair his faltering career. Then
at least he would have done his best. Besides, facing his father was by
far the worst option!
Shit! He had just thrown his badge away! He cringed at the thought of
explaining away its loss to the already furious Chief. With a sigh, he
scrambled over a pile of gravel, and began to search for the lost badge.
It took a lot of searching, but at last he found it. More or less. He
only found it when he noticed a tiny gleam of something reflecting the
distant streetlight, from deep inside one of the narrow sewer pipes.
Ricky cursed softly under his breath and shrugged off his jacket.
Perhaps if he made his body as small as possible, he could reach it. He
stooped and began to worm his way into the narrow pipe. It just seemed
wide enough. He was sure he was going to make it, if he kept his
shoulders as close as possible to his body. He strained forward with his
arms, finding one or two imperfections on the inner side of the pipe
which enabled him to inch himself forwards. His shoulders and chest were
now inside the narrow tube, squashed painfully close to the side of the
pipe. His police shield was now within a few inches of his left hand,
but in order to reach it, he would have to stretch that small distance.
There was only one possible solution. With a kick of his feet, he
managed to edge those extra few inches, leaving his feet dangling off
the ground, and greatly reducing the leverage his body had.
Got it!
He began to wriggle his body backwards, to exit the pipe. And found to
his complete disgust, that he was stuck fast. The pipe must have
imperceptibly narrowed, because his shoulders were immovably wedged in
the cramped space. And now with his legs and lower body dangling out of
the pipe, he was unable to gain any purchase at all to help his
movements.
Shit!
The sorcerer had completed the ritual. Ten human bodies lay in contorted
positions in a huge circle, as he raised a cone of power, using their
pain to call on the dark gods. He knew, almost from the instant that he
had begun, that it would be a success. And the moment he spoke the final
syllables of the ritual, he felt the nameless one come in a blast of icy
cold air that knocked him off his feet. And with the downdraft, there
was an almighty detonation of thunder as the other crossed over into the
human world. For a moment, there was a stunned silence, then the
sorcerer saw a strange luminescent glow hovering in the air. With a
suggestion about it of writhing tentacles and teeth in a mouth that
resembled a giant squid's beak. The sorcerer felt even his dark soul
begin to wither at the sight. Then the light plunged towards one of the
recumbent bodies, and the corpse stirred and sat up.
The sorcerer's eyes widened in surprise. An unexpected choice of host. But on
second thoughts quite masterful. There was advantage in this. He grinned
savagely, and went to make his respectful obeisance to the god-possessed body
of Officer Grace Mayberry.
Ricky had faced more than one humiliation in the last few days, but this would
definitely end his career. Full stop! Not that he would be censured. No, worse.
Trapped head and shoulders in an old pipe, ass in the air! He would be laughed
out of town. He pressed his head to the concrete floor of the pipe and silently
offered the powers-that-be anything to get him out of this mess.
Long minutes of yelling for help later, he knew that there was no one within
range of his increasingly desperate shouts.
Worse, it was getting cold as night fell, and he was probably going to be in
bad shape if he had to stay the night here. Another desperate wriggle only
served to jam him tighter in the pipe. Surely some passer by would see his body
sticking out and investigate. It wasn't every day you saw a uniformed cop in
this sort of situation.
The hand that slowly stroked its way down his outer thigh was totally
unexpected. He yelped in shock. Then relief flooded him; he had been found. He
wasn't going to spend the night on the damn construction site.
"Help me! Please. I'm stuck fast!" Ricky's voice was still slightly shrill from
panic.
"So I see, Officer Caruso." A darkly velvet chuckle followed his rescuer's
remark.
Oh god! Kulain!
Of all the people who could have found him, it had to be the only one Ricky
didn't want to be touched by. He wriggled again, desperate now. If things had
been bad before, then now he was really scared. He would rather have spent the
night here than stay another moment in Kulain's utterly disturbing presence.
Eventually, he subsided, stifling his totally useless struggles.
Fingers slowly traced down his thigh again. This time he knew who was touching
him, and the implications of that particular being touching him like that
didn't escape him.
"Don't.......," he pleaded, but somehow his voice had faded to a whisper.
"No...."
The response was laughter.
"Do you know what a pretty offering you make, Officer Caruso? How tempting your
body looks like that? The hand strayed across him, unavoidable, no longer on
the outside of his leg, but stroking the inside of his thigh now, working its
way oh so slowly upwards. He squirmed, but the hand followed his movements.
Inescapable. Relentless.
So very good.
He felt his body begin to react, the swelling hardness that seemed to be his
body's inevitable response to Kulain. And this time he was helpless to get away
from the demon. The touch was a velvet softness at the top of his thigh,
straying along the crease at the top of his leg.
No!
He could feel that so-delicate caress against the base of his balls, across his
perineum. He couldn't escape it, could only submit to the demon's attentions.
If only that touch wasn't driving him out of his mind! Without realising it, he
was panting now, part of him responding to Kulain instinctively, wanting to
offer himself. He moaned in denial.
The light tease of semi-clawed fingers continued until they found the evidence
of his body's betrayal, then there was another chuckle.
Oh no! Anything but this!
Ricky Caruso squirmed in humiliation. Tried to pretend this wasn't happening
to him. Tried to force away his unwilling arousal by thinking of zombies,
monsters, whatever his mind could conjure up.
........Spreading himself on silken sheets..........
"So, little one. That's the way of it!" The demon caressed the bulge between
Ricky's legs. He could almost perceive the way Kulain must be smiling wickedly.
He had to try one more time to persuade Kulain to free him.
"Please...... Help me out. Don't do this, I'm begging you...."
"I can help you out..... Oh yes!" Kulain was almost purring. Ricky realised
with sudden horror, that what he had said could have a double meaning. And they
both knew which interpretation Kulain would prefer. With an incoherent sound of
dread, the young cop struggled wildly.
Then he felt it, the gentle touch of long fingers undoing his belt and then
removing it.
It was going to happen then, as he had feared for so long. And he was
helpless before it. He began to quietly sob, trying to ignore his hated
physical reaction to Kulain. The want that even now was making a mockery of
all his protests. It was worse that the demon's touch was so unexpectedly
gentle. Almost considerate.
Arms went round his waist, and momentarily he could feel the warmth of Kulain's
body pressing into him from behind. With an unmistakable maleness that felt
iron hard, between his ass cheeks. Ricky hated it that Kulain's warmth felt so
good in the cool night air. He hated the wave of anticipation that made his own
erection surge, and most of all, he hated the hand that gently drew down his
zipper and slipped inside, freeing his erection from the painful constriction
of his clothes.
Kulain began to slowly and methodically strip his prize and there was nothing
Ricky could do to stop it.
And his cock was so hard now that it was bobbing against his belly, already
oozing wetness, cool against the evening air.
There was an absence of sensation for a few minutes, then the warmth was back,
delicious and so much hotter than before, as Kulain's body again pressed
against his from behind. Ricky realised that now they were both naked, and he
whimpered softly. He would find out then, what that great erection that he had
seen before felt like. That was even now a probing hardness against him.
"Relax little one. I don't want to hurt you....... Surrender to me......"
Ricky shook his head, before he realised that Kulain wouldn't see it. But the
movement of his body must have told Kulain his prey's intentions, because
there was a soft sigh. He felt the warm breath exhaling against his back.
"So be it!"
There was a finality about the response that made Ricky whimper. Then the
fingers were back, something cool and slick on them making him shiver. Then he
realised Kulain's intent and screamed, even as the first finger began to slide
inside him. He went wild, trying to get away, not only from the trap he found
himself in, but his own betraying body. For the touch that was gently working
open his tightness was like nothing he had ever experienced before.
So very good
Eventually, he stilled, when he realised that he was in fact making it easier
for Kulain, his struggles somehow taking on the rhythm of the unhurried strokes
that were repeatedly entering and withdrawing from his body. Then two fingers
were in him, opening him. Then three. Moving inside him with exquisite
thoroughness. Touching sensitive virgin flesh, indescribable, not hurting now,
but drawing his body and mind into that leisurely rhythm.
Kulain smiled in satisfaction. Ricky was his now, his beautiful body moving in
time to the sliding fingers that were stroking his prostate. The young cop was
moaning wantonly, seeking the touch that was driving him crazy, trying to
follow the demon's caresses, his legs fallen open and his ass raised high. For
a while, the demon had doubted whether this fiery young human could be tamed,
but the happy accident of finding Ricky in such a compromising position was
greatly to his advantage. Nor would the human be able to deny his own pleasure.
Kulain stared down at the lush body beneath him, so open and ready. And with
another of his wicked grins, resolved to ride this human to his limits and
beyond while he had the opportunity. For his latest feisty lover would be more
than a little annoyed when he was freed. Though by then he would be firmly in
Kulain's possession.
What was happening to him? Why couldn't he keep his body still? He
wanted....... wanted.........
Ricky moaned, long and deep, no longer fighting. It was as if there was
something incomplete inside him that craved this. And he no longer had the
power to resist. In fact, the slow movement of Kulain's hand was driving him
out of his mind. Then the touch was withdrawn. Ricky wailed at the sudden
emptiness, begging incoherently for the touch to begin again. He heard distant
laughter.
"Do you want me to stop now, little one?"
Sobbing with need, before he could stop himself Ricky pleaded for more. Then,
suddenly, something huge and diamond hard was forcing its way inside him, with
a relentless pressure that made him scream in pain.
NO. This wasn't what he had begged for. This wasn't pleasure. This
was......
Kulain's pretty human was ready for his initiation into the mysteries of demon
sex. There had been time to engage in a little mindfuckery. Making the human
beg for his own conquest. It was more satisfying, and the young cop would have
no way of denying his own consent.
Ricky was so very hot and tight as the big demon pushed his way in. Kulain was
as gentle as possible, considering his latest partner was being taken for the
first time. He carefully worked his way deeper, until finally, he was impaling
the other. He could hear the small noises of distress Ricky was making, and
stilled his movements, so that the human could grow accustomed to his larger
partner. Then finally, moving cautiously at first, he began the human's
initiation into undreamed of pleasures.
It hurt.
Despite the surprising care he sensed from Kulain, Ricky twisted in
discomfort, unable to escape his fate. He was only half-aware of his partner's
gently soothing caresses, and the strong arms holding him steady. His trapped
fists clutched the badge convulsively. Then mercifully, Kulain began to
withdraw. Momentarily, Ricky gasped in relief. Then the demon was pushing back
into his prey, in the start of an indescribable rhythm. And on the third
stroke, the demon changed the angle of his attack, and Ricky screamed, as a
pleasure beyond anything he had ever experienced exploded into his body.
He lost whatever sanity he had for long minutes after that, as he was taken so
expertly that he would have sold himself without a thought to stay in those
strong arms, feeling that incredible fire. Wanton once again, he spread himself
as wide as he could and begged deliciously for more. He could no longer hold
back his moans of passion. No one had ever hinted it could be like this!
Kulain sheathed himself repeatedly in the luscious body, feeling his conquered
new pet writhing and shameless, his previously demure disposition forgotten. He
felt the human's body begin to tighten convulsively around him and speeded up
his thrusts, to match the human's timing. Ricky began to scream. The sound was
like a trigger to Kulain, a signal that ignited inhuman instincts to plunder
his prey ever deeper, and strive for release.
Ricky came, jetting semen splattering his stomach and once again staining part
of his shirt. And felt a sudden hot surge inside him, even as he slid into a
dead faint.
Kulain sagged forward over the unconscious human, momentarily spent, then
kissed the younger man's shoulder. Ricky moaned softly.
With a satisfied expression, Kulain exerted his immense strength to free the
human from his temporary prison. He laid Ricky on the ground and knelt by him,
gently stroking the human's tousled hair. And yielding to temptation, quickly
licked the human's seed away off his plaything's flat belly. There was of
course the problem of the human being infected by his seed. He pressed his
fingers to the sides of the human's abdomen, and traced black fire along the
smooth skin in a release of energy. He had acted to suppress the change for a
while, since he had the power to delay infection for a while, if Ricky was kept
close to him. An evolutionary advantage. No point in frightening the already
nervous human any further. Then with a grin, he gently bit the warm shoulder,
marking his prey as his.
Green eyes flickered open eventually, and dazedly looked up at their new
master. Kulain leaned forward and kissed Ricky, enjoying the human's dreamy
response. He knew that Ricky would taste himself, and he was amused when he saw
the human flinch in sudden realisation of what the flavour was within his
mouth. The human awoke fully and tried, too late, to rid his mouth of the
taste.
"Son of a bitch!" Ricky's face went white, then red with anger. "You rotten,
twisted bastard....!" The anger at his treatment at Kulain's hands took over.
Ricky recoiled from his lover, and shook his head in denial. Then, as Kulain
watched with amusement, Ricky fumbled desperately with the pile of clothes near
his feet, his dignity hopelessly compromised. His hands shaking, the human
fumbled until he had covered his body up again, then fled the scene in
revulsion. Already, somewhat predictably, the human was trying to deny in his
mind the arousal he had felt, the way he had begged......
No matter. The little human would soon learn who his master was. And what a
useful purpose he served, as a vessel for Kulain to quench his lust in. And
more. As soon as Ricky began to change, as demon DNA altered his body, he would
have no choice but to yield to more powerful males in Kulain's pack. It was
interesting to contemplate whether the feisty young cop would compete for
dominance with his other altered humans. Kulain's possessions would, in the
end, establish a pecking order, or hierarchy of dominance, with Kulain at its
head.
Ricky and Alex would fight. Delightfully spirited, both of them. So much more
entertaining that way, and if he manipulated the situation in the right way,
both would compete against the other to please him. And of course the other
demons would be envious of him if he appeared among them with a matched pair
of altered humans. With that pleasing thought, he started to move towards the
hotel, to clean his body of the scent of sex.
Ricky sank down, shuddering, onto a convenient pile of sand at the other end of
the construction site, out of Kulain's sight. Then he flinched as tender
tissues in his rear protested at the rough treatment he gave them. The stab of
discomfort served to remind him exactly what he had just done, and with whom.
To his horror, he could also feel the slight wetness and stickiness between his
legs, where a demon's semen was slowly oozing its way out of his body. Sobbing,
he drew his knees up and tried to ignore the state of his body, the numerous
abrasions and bruises left by his various encounters that day.
Why had he done that? When the demon had finally offered to stop, why had he
begged for more? Why hadn't he fought harder?
His thoughts a whirlwind of confusion and despair, he buried his head in his
hands and cried. How long he did that would ever elude him, but it was probably
only a few minutes. What brought him out of his state of self induced misery
was the sound of footsteps as more than one person approached.
He couldn't face Kulain again. Not like this! Instinct took over, and
scrambling to his feet, he dived behind the pile of sand. Not a moment too
soon. A quick glance told him he definitely didn't want to meet this
particular group. Half a dozen of those horrific zombies and two hooded
figures. A thin individual whose face was hidden, and a shorter person, who had
a suggestion of femininity in her movements. The group headed towards town,
even as he watched.
Ricky was momentarily frozen with horror. The memory of the previous encounter
he had with the creatures was fresh in his mind. But he couldn't just sit by
and let them ambush some poor sap in town. He had to follow and try to counter
whatever they were going to do. Carefully, he rose from his hiding place and
began to follow at a distance, occasionally cursing to himself as his feet
encountered some bodily detritus that had fallen from one of the not-so-fresh
walking corpses.
Kulain frowned. Something was not right with the night. Something undefined
and nebulous that set his instincts on edge. A suggestion of evil. He, of all
beings in the town, was most sensitive to its influence. There was some force
at work that night that was inimical to his kind, and it bothered him that he
couldn't pin down its cause. He should have been able to detect any threat
easily enough, his power was strong enough. He stopped and cast his mind and
senses outwards, trying to detect the wrongness.
Nothing!
Just the normally beneficial darkness of the night.
It wasn't right!
And his humans were out there, unguarded.
He turned and began to hurry towards the place where he had left Ricky. As the
most vulnerable, it made sense to collect the young cop first. He smiled
slightly despite his worry, Ricky would no doubt have to be persuaded to obey,
which would be more than a little enchanting.
The weight that hit him between the shoulders and brought him crashing down was
totally unexpected. He sensed the foulness of a zombie, and twisted with
desperate strength to throw it off him. It was sent crashing into a nearby
wall, but he knew it would be on him in a moment. It couldn't, after all, be
killed. He started to shift so that he could deal with it in the traditional
way. Using his claws to rip it to a million pieces, so that it could never rise
again. And his mind crashed into an unexpected barrier. A spell or force of
some kind had been cast around him, preventing him from assuming his most
efficient form.
How?
And how hadn't he detected the zombie long before its odorous approach? The
answer was quick in coming. Two shadowy forms stood watching him. The authors
of his misfortune. With a growl of rage, he reached out his mind to draw upon
the power that could blast worlds into dust.
The smaller of his opponents gave a small laugh, and matched his power with an
immense force of its own. The struggle began.
Ricky had given a sigh of relief when he had first seen Kulain. Now things
would be alright. His demon would fight and defeat the other, and everyone
would be safe. Kulain was the Lord of Washington, one of the most powerful of
the demons. Nothing could defeat him.
But before he could yell in warning, things had begun to go wrong. For some
reason, Kulain hadn't even seemed to notice the zombie until it attacked. Then
stranger still, he had just stood still, staring at the smaller of the two
hooded enemies.
No, not staring exactly. It was more like he was watching a struggle without
physical form. And even as he realised this, things began to go wrong for
Kulain. Ricky saw the demon's face suddenly register the shock of recognition,
as if he had only just realised who his opponent was. Then there was the flare
of lightning, wreathing both opponents for a moment. And a sudden, explosive
detonation, light flaring for an instant as bright as the sun. When the dazzled
Ricky finally regained his sight, he saw with disbelief, Kulain lying still on
the ground at the foot of a wall, unmoving. The hooded woman gave a mad cackle,
and gestured with her hand. The wall cracked from top to bottom, and in slow
motion, toppled onto the motionless body, hiding it from sight.
Frozen with horror, Ricky could only stare in disbelief, as the zombie masters
and their pack moved away, triumphant.
His hands were cut and bleeding from pulling at the sharp brick fragments, but
Ricky continued to dig frantically into the pile of debris, desperate to find
Kulain. It must have taken him over half an hour, but finally he unearthed the
demon's body. He didn't even understand why he cared. Why the tears were
running down his face as he dug, tracking through the dirt on his face more
than once.
He stared desolately at the unmoving body, then tugged with all his strength,
dragging Kulain free of the rubble. Then somehow, he managed to turn the demon
over so he could look at the other's face once more.
Why? With never a thought of finding the help he knew would be useless.
Why was he pressing his forehead to Kulain's, weeping hot tears as sobs racked
his body? Why did he cry Kulain's name and clutch at the strong shoulders,
shaking the other in an almost frantic need? Why did he feel as though he had
been abandoned like a youngling? He found himself clinging to Kulain, with the
other's head resting on his lap.
It was his hot tears dropping onto Kulain's face as he clutched the demon that
finally brought a response.
"........Ri......Ricky......"
The softest of whispers, a ghost of a smile. With an inarticulate cry of
relief, the young cop found himself clutching Kulain tighter.
".....Not so ...... easy to......ki..... kill...."
"I have to get you to a hospital! I have to......" Ricky was babbling in his
relief.
"No!" Kulain's response momentarily became stronger. "Hide me, little one. I
need time to...... to regain my strength. If they find that I live
still......."
His youngling looked so unprotected, so vulnerable. For a moment, Kulain
thought Ricky would balk at what he was being asked to do. The bonds between
them were as yet so new and untried. The demon DNA that even now was making
minute alterations in the human's blood and brain. A biological creation of new
instincts. Then a new look of determination appeared and the young cop nodded
slowly.
"Alright!"
The cop hurried away and returned a few minutes later in his beat up old Volvo.
Then with a display of desperate strength, slid his arms around Kulain and
began to drag the big demon towards the car. It was exceptionally difficult to
manoeuvre Kulain's weakened body into the back seat, but after that it became
easier. Within half an hour, Kulain was lying in Ricky Caruso's bed, deep in
exhausted sleep.
This was crazy! How the hell did he end up with a demon in his bed? Why had he
felt such a deep loyalty to the one who had so recently used him........?
It was just right, that was all. It felt good to have Kulain's approval. It
felt very good to touch his lover's body, even like this.
He wasn't aware that minute changes were taking place in his body chemistry,
even now. That endorphins, the addictive natural pleasure chemicals produced in
his brain, were being released into his bloodstream when he was close to
Kulain, training his body in subtle fashion to respond to Kulain's desires.
And though he would feel consternation later at his own actions, it felt
perfectly natural when he crept into the bedroom and curled up on the bed next
to Kulain, and slept.
Dark Angel's Fire
by Megaera
Mindgames
Sleep with one eye open, gripping your pillow tight.
Exit light: enter night.
Take my hand, we're off to Never Never Land.......
Metallica—lyrics to Enter Sandman
Closing in. The pressure upon you is so unreal.........
.........Reaching out for something you've got to feel,
While clutching to what you had thought was real.
What the hell?
